Your Neighbours up North
by violetnovice
Summary: Well, I mean, we can't let the murricans steal all the attention, eh? I'm creating a Canadian Camp Half Blood. This is the story of Shawn, a demigod from Seattle who ends up in Vancouver because of a possible romantic interest, plot convenience and a biased Author. And they're all OCs except for some references. Rated T for swearing and violence. *abandoned due to shoddy concept*
1. Chapter 1

The morning my rebirth began was an uneventful one. I showered and brushed my teeth, like usual, and had the same old cornflakes from the same old box. My dad had left early for work, like usual, and my mom... Well, I wasn't sure. My dad told me that my mom was nuts. She seemed normal at first but after a while told him a bunch of crazy lies. Something about how she could do magic or whatever and there were gods watching us. When I was two, she left and never came back.

Wait. Before I tell you all this, you need to know a few things about me.

My name is Shawn Williams. I've spent all of my fourteen years in Seattle. And I am a demigod.

First rule of writing a demigod biography: a disclaimer.

1: This is all absolutely fiction and everything in this story is made up. It would be awesome if there were actually a Demigod called Shawn Williams, blah blah blah, but sadly, there isn't.

2: If you are a mortal, who's reading this for fun because it's TOTALLY fiction, congrats, this IS totally FICTION

3: If you can see this sentence, you can see through the mist. We've enchanted this disclaimer so that only demigods or mortals who can See will be able to see this. So hey, welcome to my crappy jacked up life.

Where was I? Oh yeah. That morning.

The morning was normal, as I said. After eating my cereal, I checked that my homework was in my backpack, grabbed the set of spare keys I owned, and walked to school. School started at eight, but was only ten minute's walk, so my dad trusted that I wouldn't get lost. I'd considered skipping school several times but then the school would require a signed note, and I didn't have any friends to skip school with. My life was pretty turbulent, and I was always moving. I never stayed in the same place for more than three years, and this was already my seventh school.

I trudged through English and walked around campus at break. Ever since the first week where I accidentally made a bunch of stuff explode, they'd pegged me as weird. I mean, seriously weird. I'd had a crappy day, and then when I was buying a bag of chips from the cafeteria, the jocks cut me in line and forced me to wait another fifteen minutes. When I touched the bag of chips, it literally exploded. Chips were flying halfway across the room, and shreds of plastic floated through the air. I didn't have anyone to talk to, so I just walked to my next class. Math was boring, per usual. Half of us already knew this stuff and just used this as an excuse to be able to text through class but still get As. And then there were the ones that just didn't understand. I spent the class doodling. A caricature of the math teacher, all hunched over his laptop like a rat while we filled out our worksheets. I added buck teeth and a bunch of crumpled paper littered around him. Life was normal. I purposely spelled my name wrong, to see if he would notice, but I never got a chance to find out.

I spent lunch sitting alone at the end of a cafeteria table, eating the hot lunch. After I finished, I wandered around aimlessly. I doodled a stick figure with a jet pack throughout social studies, making him fly in loops across the paper. Then, the bell rang, and it was time for P.E

We had a new teacher for PE, someone called Coach Lanfield, who'd only been here for a a few weeks. He declared we were doing dodgeball, which wasn't a surprise, because we always did dodgeball with him. Coach Lanfield was huge, with multiple tattoos. He always wore the same white t-shirt and blue shorts, completed with a neon orange whistle. A lot of people thought he only had one set of clothes, because he really stank. Team leaders were chosen, and the captains chose people, lining up. Coach Lanfield grunted something about starting and blew the whistle. I ran around the court, dodging balls. Halfway through the game, I saw a ball hurtling towards me from my right, and I knew this would be easy to dodge. I sidestepped, reaching out to catch it. I felt it touch my fingertips, and then something ploughed into me. My face connected with the ball as something crashed into my side, pushing me to the floor. I landed hard on my butt, rolling a bit until I lay on my back. I looked up, dazed, to find the school bully standing over me. He had a ball in his hands, probably the same one he hit me with. I could hear everyone laughing. I wouldn't have minded, except that he was on the SAME team.

"Watch where you're going next time, idiot." He sneered.

I'm not proud or sorry for what I did next. I jumped up and tackled him. He fell backwards, a look of surprise on his face. I pounded him, kicking him in his gut. I punched him, tackled him again as he rolled away. We wrestled for dominance. He elbowed me, loosening my hold for a second. He flipped over, but I managed to hold him in a headlock, kneeing him in his area. He yelled in pain, and I head butted him. I felt people trying to pull me off him, but I managed to grab his nose and twist it. In the background, I could hear Coach Lanfield's whistle blowing. Coach Lanfield grabbed me and slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I tried to kick him, but he just absorbed it like it was nothing.

He walked until we were at the boys locker room. He tossed me onto the floor and glared down at me. I noticed for the first time he had the beginnings of an unibrow.

"Alright, kid, spit it out." He growled. "I've been smelling half-blood for days. You must not be a kid of the twelve, maybe a minor god. That would explain why you haven't been found yet."

All I could think of was "What?"

"Don't even try to lie to me." He hissed. Instinctively, I propped myself up, trying to get up, but he put his foot on my chest. "Listen, punk, I can feel you're 're not like the other mortals, but I can't put my finger on it." Coach Lanfield was seriously creeping me out.

"U-uh, coach?" "This is your last chance, kid. Who sent you here?" I tried to move.

"Coach?" Coach Lanyon roared, suddenly turning taller. Four other arms burst through the side of his t-shirt. His face twisted as he snarled. Some part of me, detached from the moment, recognized the smell of garlic fries. He ripped a bench from the ground and stabbed it right next to my head, missing me by an inch. I panicked, tearing myself free and running to the exit.

"You won't find any help there," he promised. "The Mist is strong enough to fool any mortal!" He lunged across the room, grabbing my shirt and throwing me into the row of lockers. The metal cut into my back, digging agonizingly into my flesh. I was bleeding from a gash on my forehead, Coach Lanfield looming over me, holding a rock in each of his six hands. I thought I was hallucinating, that this was a bad dream, and I closed my eyes, sure I was about to die. He roared, and smashed the rock into my arm. I screamed as pain shot through my arm, white hot strands of pain wrapping around me. My arm was at a weird angle, something white poking out of my skin. Coach Lanfield growled.

"Say good night!"

Suddenly, I heard a wet squelching sound, like someone stepping in mud. Something ripped through Coach Lanfield and he dissolved into a puddle of clay. The first thing I saw was the eyes. Calculating green eyes, framed by black hair and a unreadable expression. A girl stood above me, looking down on me with disgust written plainly across her face. She had on an oversized coat over muddy boots. Reaching through the wreckage, she pulled me out of the remains of someone's locker. I staggered, blood from my forehead dripping into my eyes. She was holding a sword, which had dried blood on it. "Come on," she said. "We have to get out of here before his brethren come." I staggered, light-headed and dizzy. I was seeing double, and I stumbled, my knee hitting the cool tile. She tried to pull me up, but I pulled away. I tried to walk a few staggering steps, but I fell again. I was drifting, dizzy. This was surreal. For a scary second, I was looking at myself from above, feeling strangely detached. I knew I was in shock, that I should probably do something about it, but my limbs felt heavy and weak, unable to move. Suddenly, something hit me from behind and the world went dark.

I woke up in the dark. I sat up, confused and bewildered. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized I was in a sleeping bag a distance away from a highway.

"Awake?" A girl suddenly appeared at the corner of my eye, holding a thermos. "Woah!" I suddenly remembered what had happened."What did you do? What the hell is this place?" She sat down besides me.

"Few miles outside of Vancouver." She said it casually, like she hadn't dragged me from Seattle to Vancouver. She saw the look on my face and said "Your PE coach was trying to murder you, alright? We had to keep you safe." I opened my mouth to say something, probably "what the fuck" but she suddenly poured the content of the thermos down my throat. She covered my nose, forcing me to swallow.

"It's only ambrosia with a little tranquilizer," she promised. "We have to keep you alive until we reach base." Base? I tried to fight back but she forced me to take another swallow. It tasted like coffee, the milky kind, with extra creamer.

"We'll get you something to eat when you wake up. Sweet dreams."

With that, I fainted again.

My dad was shaking me, trying to wake me up. I'd fallen asleep on the car again, I could feel the seat digging into my back.

"Get up, we're going to be late!"

"Just a second..." I mumbled, turning over.

"Second's up! Now move!"

"Geez dad, stop..."

"How the hell do I look like your old man? Wake up!"

"Fine, pops." I sat up and opened my eyes blearily, blinking in the afternoon sun. I was bizarrely in a booth at a fast food joint. A girl was sitting across from me, frowning.

"WHAT THE-" she clapped one hand over my mouth, using the other to pin my throat against the wall.

"Quiet!" She hissed. "I know you're confused and all that, but you need to listen to me first. Understand?" Her grip tightened agonizingly. I nodded. I was running out of air.

"Wait here, and if you try to run, I'll break your arm." She rose and walked to the counter, and I followed her. A few tired looking people sat around, drinking coffee. The cashier saluted her with two fingers and she nodded back. It might have been just my imagination, but I swear I saw goat horns on the cashier.

"Twenty pack chocolate timbits and a coffee." She said.

"For here or to go?"

"To go."

"Coming right up." The cashier winked and handed her a receipt. She dropped a few coins into his palm.

"2.09, exact as always." The cashier grinned. "This the new recruit?" The girl nodded.

"New what?" I said. The cashier raised his eyebrows.

"You haven't told him?"

"Told me what?"

The cashier's eyebrows rose even higher. "He doesn't know?"

"Just give me the damn timbits." The cashier shrugged.

"Your wish is my command." He snapped, and suddenly a cardboard box and a coffee appeared.

"How-" I started, but she shot me a death glare. I scowled, rubbing my neck. "You owe me some answe-"

"Shut up and eat your timbits." She threw the cardboard box and I caught it. "We can talk while we walk."

"What the hel-" she dragged me to the door.

"Let go of me!" I tried to pry her hand off my arm but she kept her iron grip. She led me down a busy street while I tried to resist, people shooting us odd glances. I looked back at the fast food joint. Tim Hortons.

"Let go of me!" She looked back, raising an eyebrow.

"Just trust me. Your dad is waiting for us. I'll tell you more later." She let go of my arm. I decided that I should just go along with whatever crazy shit this was. Maybe Coach Lanfield had killed me. Maybe this was just a crazy dream, and I'd fallen asleep in social studies or whatever.

"Aren't you going to eat the timbits?" She asked as we walked. I had no idea what a timbit was, so I only shrugged.

"Where are we going?"

"Headquarters."

"Where's that?"

"None of your beeswax. Eat the timbits. They're good." Tentatively, I opened up the box. Chocolate donut holes. She pulled her coffee out of nowhere, like the cashier did, and started to drink.

We eventually got on a bus. She paid the driver and we sat down in the back, away from the other people. She sat down besides me, sipping the last of her coffee.

"I guess I have to give you 'the talk'." She frowned.

"What?"

"There was a reason why I had to take you, ok? Coach Lanfield... How do you put it... He was a serial killer." I choked on a donut hole.

"Ha ha. Very funny. Now why are we here?"

"I'm absolutely serious." The look in her eyes made me believe maybe there was some truth. I swallowed my donut hole.

"Assuming you're completely sane, why would I just go with you because of that?" She drained the coffee and looked me straight in the eye.

"I'm not kidding. You just need to trust me on this one." I shrugged.

"What's in it for me?" I tried to act like I completely knew what was going on. Act casual.

"If you decide to wander away, you'll be left alone in the middle of Vancouver. You obviously haven't been here, and it'll take you hours to find a pay phone, IF you have the change. Then you'll have to call your dad and explain to the police how you magically ended up here." I blinked. Act casual. Act casual.

"Well I guess that wouldn't be too bad." I said, trying to make my voice sound nonchalant. She nodded, and that was it for the rest of the bus ride.

I followed her as she walked through the city. The box of tim-thingies was long gone and somewhere in a trash can by the time she finally decided to stop. We were in a residential district, in front of a bunch of townhouses.

"Do you see anything?" She asked. I squinted.

"There's a bunch of houses."

"Look harder." I looked again and suddenly, something clicked in the back of my head. I blinked, and suddenly, there was another house, sandwiched between house number 311 and 313. House number twelve looked like any other respectable townhouse, except that it was coved with graffiti. Red, angry letters sprawling across the upper floor (PARTY PONIEZ) and Glitcherz was scrawled across the door. I followed as she knocked on the door. It swung open by itself and she strolled in. I followed, wishing I would just wake up from this dream already.


	2. Chapter 2

I stepped through the door, into a musty and damp hallway, except suddenly, I wasn't there. I was on a snowy hill, a valley spread out before me. The night sky was a sharp contrast to the warm afternoon outside. The cold, wet snow seeped through my sneakers, and in the valley, I saw a what appeared to be a castle. She shut the door behind us.

"Come on." She strode past me, coffee still in hand. Dazed, I followed. Coach Lanfield was probably a drug dealer and I was high right now. Definitely. I followed her down the slope, trying to ignore how real the snow felt seeping through my shoes.

We were almost at the valley entrance, where an imposing stone wall lay, separated from us by a deep moat. Two watch towers framed a portcullis, and suddenly, a bugle horn sounded from one of them. The gate opened and a drawbridge dropped across the moat. She strode right in.

I kept on feeling that it was odd. Even thought there had been a bugle horn, there was no other sign of human life as we passed through the gatehouse. Since this was my brain, I tried to imagine a welcoming party. Nothing happened. I was definitely high out of my mind. The portcullis opened into a smaller gate, which led into the small, guardhouse, and there was another, more fancy gate which she pushed open easily. The swinging gate almost hit me in the face and I had to catch it. Immiediately, the metal grew hot under my finger tips, and I yanked it away and blew on it. The girl seemed to notice briefly and the corners of her mouth twitched, like she was going to laugh, but she turned away the next second and I lost that brief moment of indecision. I stepped through the gate and into another world. The gatehouse was cold and distant, but there was a small town, more of, on the other side. The houses were small and kind of frilly, like those old grandmas who sit around knitting and drinking tea all day. The whole place seemed abandoned, but as she continued walking, street lights switched on, harshly illuminating the night. The town began to come alive as people swarmed around us.

"Is this the newbie?" A boy asked. Boy didn't fit him actually, more like over buff bear-man hybrid on steroids. He had short, reddish brown hair and was wearing some sort of camo pyjamas. He stuck out his hand.

"My name is Ralph of Ares. Which House are you?" I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but the girl pulled me away.

"Not right now, Ralph. He's unclaimed." Ralph glared at the girl, scowling.

"Yeah, fine." He grumbled. The two of them obviously had some history. She pulled me through the wondering crowd, to another gate. She pushed it open and led me into a courtyard. She pointed at the house in the centre of the court.

"You're going to stay here for tonight," she told me. "Then tomorrow evening we'll hike through Town and get to the Castle. Eric'll take care of you." As if on cue, a guy opened the door and beckoned. We walked to the porch and stood there awkwardly.

"Eric, this is Shawn. Shawn, this is Eric." We stood in the doorway and exchanged an awkward glance. Eric had brownish hair and pale eyes that darted around, looking anywhere but at me. He also had a pathetic moustache perched lopsidedly on his face. He didn't look much older than me, maybe seventeen or eighteen, but we were almost the same height.

"Well, I trust you guys will have some quality bonding time." and I was left there with Eric.

Eric told me that there was lasagna in the fridge, but I wasn't hungry so he just showed me around the house instead. After that, he told a few cheesy jokes, and I tried to pretend that I totally cared.

It wasn't until I was falling asleep that I realized I'd never told her my name.

 _I've been having serious writer's block for three months now..._

 _The annoying thing about fanfiction is that reading by chapters isn't that fun. Most of my favourite stories aren't updating..._


	3. Chapter 3

The next day I woke up again dazed, not remembering what had happened, why I was in an unfamiliar bed. Groggily, I got up, rubbing my eyes. I stumbled my way through the tiny house into the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water. I managed to stumble through my morning routines. I asked Eric for a change of clothes, since my old ones were beginning to stink. I ate leftover lasagna for breakfast while Eric was annoyingly bouncy.

"Come on," He told me. "When you're done with breakfast put your dishes in the sink and we'll start your tour of the Town." I was a bit curious about this Town at this point so I followed him outside obediently. Seeing everything in daylight was eerie. Eric motioned for me to follow him. We walked down the small driveway, and I got another good look at the Town.

"Do you know anything about the gods? Like, the Greek or Roman gods?" Eric asked.

"No. Why?"

"Well, Long story short back in the day there were twelve Greek gods. And each of them had special abilities, a unique symbol, and a weapon, right? Kinda like the Power Rangers. They basically ran around defeating monsters or falling in love with normal people, mortals, and made a bunch of babies."

"I'm pretty sure that's blasphemous to call them Power Rangers." Eric shrugged.

"If you put it that way. Anyhow, when they had kids with mortals, these kids grew up to be legends. Like Hercules. They're called Demigods."

"What does this have to do with anything?" I interrupted.

"Because you're one of those kids." I raised an eyebrow. Surely the guy could do better than that.

"Really? Couldn't you be at least a little more subtle?" I asked. This was the worst joke I'd ever heard. It wasn't even funny. Eric nodded, looking relieved.

"Well, this is only my first time giving the Talk, I'm the head of Hermes now, since Josh-" he suddenly shut up.

"Josh?" I prompted. This was a horrible prank. He was probably trying to scare me. Pulling my leg or something. He blanched, shaking his head.

"Great, now I've done it. It's nothing. Nothing." His acting really sucked. I grinned slightly. He was probably counting on me to ask him who was Josh.

"So I'm one of those kids. A demigod."

"A demigod." Eric confirmed. He suddenly looked nervous.

"You know what? Let's drop the whole subject and get on with your tour." We walked out of the driveway. The house was set apart from the others in the court, and several other houses surrounded it in a curving U. The entire court was surrounded by mossy stone walls, with a gate as the only exit.

"So uh, about the Greek and Roman Gods, we kind of, um, treat them as mascots. In the Town, there's twelve major courts dedicated to them. And the people who um, have uh, Hermes for a mascot, for example, would live in this court, which is dedicated to Hermes." He waved his hand at the courtyard. "The demigods in the Town... They've dedicated their entire lives to the military. When we've been trained, we can go out into the field."

"So you guys are spies?"

"And everyone who's here will stay here for their entire life. With rare occasions, of course. Some people are exiled, or have missions."

"Do you guys have cool gadgets and stuff?" This place was nuts. I almost didn't want to wake up.

"Well... About that. We have a policy never to use technology because-" he wavered for a second. "We uh... Technology is easily hacked. People tend to prefer traditional methods." We turned a corner.

I noticed little details to the houses as I kept walking, like a few partially hidden cannons, one house that was painted completely black with a iron fence surrounding it, a few animal skulls impaled on the spikes, and there was also one that had replaced the weather vane with a stuffed boar, artfully posed so it looked like a furry blimp. Scratch knitting grandmas, more like assassin grandmas.

"So this street is dedicated to Ares. And, uh, this one is for Demeter. The Hades kids have only one house, but their house is huge. He pointed at the black house. "Only the attic is above ground. We were going to build more houses for them, what with the new Big Three arrivals and Hades's kids after the Titan War, but they declined and just expanded it underground."

"This is where the Nemesis kids live. Nemesis, by the way, is the Goddess of revenge and misfortune." He pointed at a seemingly normal house with blackout curtains. "She's a more minor Goddess, and there's only a handful of Demigods living there."

"The courts dedicated to the major gods are on the perimeter of the Town, while the minor gods' houses are on the inside. After we pass the minor gods' houses, you have the Centre." He pointed to a door in the distance.

"The gates guard the Centre. That's where the shops are, and in the centre of the Town, there's the Fortress. It's a clocktower that's kind of our strategic base. The gates close at our curfew of nine thirty, so you should hurry before you get trapped in."

I nodded. A curfew for me to break. Yay.

He showed me around the Town, including several blacksmiths, with "Hephaestus Kids" hammering sheets of metal into shape. I had no idea what Hephaestus was and wasn't interested to find out.

As he talked nervously, the only thing I was actually focusing on was his moustache. It twitched as he moved his upper lip, giving the resemblance of some furry centipede trying to writhe itself free from his lip. I watched with a horrified fascination.

"And here, is the pride of the Town." He said, jerking me back to reality. He pointed at a bizarrely disjointed shop, bright and bustling compared to any other place. I squinted at the bright red sign. Tim Hortons. The door opened and a guy in a baseball cap strolled out.

I blinked. The guy's face was disfigured with a series of scars, running from the bridge of his nose leftwards and sliding off the side of his face, marring his skin in bright red streaks and permanently pulling up the left corner of his mouth. Otherwise, he was the stereotypical Californian surfer dude, with white blond hair, blue eyes, and a tan.

He looked like someone had tried to give him a Glasgow Smile. Forget that, more like a Glasgow Smirk.

"'ullo, Eric!" He shouted and waved. "Ya showin' the newbie around, eh?" He had a really weird accent, like half British or something. Eric waved and the newcomer grinned.

"That's Josh. He's a Newfie, supposedly." Eric told me out of the side of his mouth as Josh came closer. "No one believes him, that accent is horrible. I know you're from Seattle, so just a precaution. Don't say anything about 'eh', because the eh is silent unless you're on the east coast."

"Newfie?"

"Newfoundland."

"Oh." I totally knew what that was.

Josh beamed at us, oblivious to our conversation. He stuck out his hand. I shook it, staring at the scars. He towered over me, and I had to crane my neck. He noticed me staring and his smile froze.

"I'm Shawn." I said quickly. "How come you have fast food here? I thought you guys were supposed to be old school."

"We paid a fortune for this place." Josh said with a glimmer of pride. "The Timbits riot of '12. We want our timbits! Very nice chant and the coffee here doesn't hurt. Marched around the Town raising a fuss in the residential area and they caved."

Eric glanced at me. "Theres the barracks, which is our part of town, and then the retirees, the legacies, the demigods that can't fight anymore... They live in the residential area. It's on the other side of town." He was definitely twitching.

"Well, I've given you the tour. Josh is going to get you your basic necessities and figure out where you're gonna board." Eric said. "Later."

"Come on." Josh said. "It's pretty complicated, but since you're a demigod, your pops set us up with a fund so we've been waiting for you. I'll get you the stuff he's sent and get you settled." He set off at a brisk pace, jogging towards the gates. I scrambled to keep up with him.

 _I've written this chapter three different times and made them fight to the death in a pit of Spellcheck, Common Sense, and frustration. This is the one that won. Hope this was worth the effort._


End file.
